


Life of the Party

by Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89



Series: Missing Scenes [6]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: 5x05, Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e05 Life of the Party, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Missing Scene, Smut, Spangelus by association, coming on command, cuz Lorne, implied Spangel - Freeform, implied Spangelus, minor Darla-bashing (if you squint), minor canon dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29289876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/pseuds/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89
Summary: Angel regrets not sending Spike away with the others while he was under Lorne’s mysticism
Relationships: Angel (BtVS)/Eve (Ats), Angelus/Darla (BtVS), Angelus/Spike (BtVS), Drusilla/Spike (BtVS), Fanged Four - Relationship, The Whirlwind - Relationship
Series: Missing Scenes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112180
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Life of the Party

**Author's Note:**

> Told you things would get kicked up a notch by this point! God, why do I keep coming up with flashback ideas? I love the Whirlwind’s dynamics, but good lord it’s hard to write all those differing personalities and to keep Angelus his evil self. Things will probably go back to teen or mature until Destiny tho, so enjoy the smut for now.

**~Later that night~**

Angel made his way up to his suite, his head throbbing as if he had just drank his body weight, though he was pretty sure he hadn’t actually touched a drop the whole night. He trudged over to his bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in two gulps before pouring another and making his way to the bedroom. 

He sat the glass on his nightstand and changed into a pair of pajama bottoms, his thoughts still racing as he retrieved the glass and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his hand over his face, kicking himself as the night played over in his mind. 

**~Earlier that evening~**

He’d stayed. Oh, God, he’d _let_ him stay! Spike had sat there and listened as Lorne’s sleep-deprived mysticism worked its spell on him and kept him buried in Eve, and he’d let him. 

He had doled out orders to the rest of the team as he felt himself losing his grip on his resistance against Lorne’s influence and they hurried away to their tasks as he let Eve pull him back behind the couch. His errant Childe, still hopped up on positivity, had remained, no task bequeathed to him, nothing he _could_ do, really, intangible as he was. Joined by Lorne himself, the two of them discussing God knew what less than twenty feet away.

Angel had tried to ignore their presence, to focus instead on Eve, the liaison’s slender limbs wrapped around him and tugging him down to her, her lips finding his every so often as they rode out the unintentional sorcery compelling them. He tried, and quickly failed, his mind supplying images of the blonde he had been trying so hard _not_ to think of that way. Images of that damnably tempting smirk, a peek of pink where his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. Those steely eyes widening in a false innocence as he watched and grew intrigued. Images he remembered all too well, burned into his memory and ever-present no matter how deeply he buried them. 

It was far from the first time Spike had stuck around while the older vampire was in the midst of fucking someone else, though usually while caught up in the attentions of a partner of his own, and only ever when he’d been Angelus. Memories of those nights of debauchery, and what they inevitably led to, clouded his mind as he thrust into Eve, his eyes no longer seeing her, but Darla.

**~1881~**

The four of them had just returned from their evening hunt, their bloodlust slated to the point where it had turned into a different, if not equally violent, kind of need. Darla tugged Angelus into the master bedroom, Drusilla and William trailing close behind, pulling him along to the giant bed and falling back upon the mattress as she ripped open the bodice of the lilac dress that she had absconded with the night before when they had terrorized the home of the town’s overly wealthy governor. 

Angelus growled hungrily, following her willingly, his hands snaking beneath the many layers, bunching up the skirt of her dress around her waist as he settled between her legs. He could smell her arousal, wafting off of her and clouding his head. It was one of the few times she hadn’t insisted on being on top, the position being her way of asserting her dominance over him even as he thrust up into her. 

Beside him, the mattress dipped as Drusilla pushed William onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Angelus was already painfully hard, but damn if he didn’t harden further at the sight of his dark-haired Childe tearing William’s shirt open to reveal the pale planes of his smooth chest. Angelus teased a hand up along the inside of Darla’s thigh and wrapped the fingers of the other into Drusilla’s chocolate curls, tugging her head back as he leaned over and crushed his lips to hers. God, she even tasted of Will. 

The sting of Darla’s claws scratching down his chest in warning pulled his attention away with a growl falling from his lips. Drusilla giggled beside him and Angelus had to fight back a snarl when William snickered at Darla’s leash-pulling. When he looked back down at Darla, she was looking up at him with a simpering pout, her displeasure clear. 

Not wanting to tempt her further, Angelus wasted no time in ripping open his breeches and fisting his hard cock as he lowered himself over her. As he notched himself at her slick entrance, he heard William groan beside him, the sound bolstering his own arousal as slid into Darla’s cunt in one harsh thrust. 

Without stopping to let her adjust, Angelus started a steady, brutal pace, his attention drifting over to the couple writhing beside him. His eyes passed quickly over the half-clothed Drusilla to fall upon the pale, bucking whelp beneath her. William’s head was thrown back against the pillows as his Dark Princess rode him, his eyelids fluttering open with a moan to focus his gaze upon Angelus. 

The sultry smile on William’s gasping mouth spurred Angelus to fuck into Darla impossibly faster, his lips pulled into a fierce snarl. In his mind it was no longer his cunning and cruel mistress beneath him, but the intriguingly innocent William, the boy he’d had to entice with soft words and harsh touches into voicing his own twisted desires. He no longer felt Darla’s wet, demanding cunt squeezing around him, his thoughts caught up in the remembered feeling of Will’s giving flesh, the way it would clench around his cock, begging for more. 

He could feel Darla tighten around him, her growls of pleasure turning into mewls of need as she grew close to her own end; Angelus glanced over at the tawny-haired vampire and grinned when he noted the way the boy’s face screwed up in concentration, desperate to hold back his climax. Without a thought to Darla thrashing beneath him, he drove himself deeper into her, his voice a deep growl when he finally spoke.

“Come for me.”

Darla spasmed around him just as William bucked harshly up into Drusilla with a shout, his eyes popping open to meet Angelus’, his fingers fisted tight in Dru’s skirts as he panted through the rush of his orgasm.

**~2004~**

Angel let out a strained roar as the past whirled through his head, his hips stuttering as he came, the heels of Eve’s feet digging into his ass to hold him in place as she cried out softly in pleasure, signaling her own climax. Angel could feel Spike’s gaze on him, refused to look for the source of the chill that ran down his spine. Instead, he let himself collapse lightly on top of his bespelled liaison, his nose pressing into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply to clear his head of thoughts he had no right to be dredging up.

He’d done so well so far at keeping the lines clear, had managed not to cross them in the month or so since Spike had been spat out of the amulet. Now those lines were so blurred they barely existed anymore. How many more arguments would he have to half-heartedly instigate, how long would he have to ignore Spike’s taunting, in order to place them firmly back where they belonged? How long would he have to keep pretending that every day that Spike showed up in his office was a new lesson in self-control?

God, he was so screwed.


End file.
